


Lamb to the Chessboard

by microwaveslayer



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Chess Metaphors, Contract references, Death Metaphors, Drabble, Heavy symbolism, Lamb symbolism, musings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-05-01 06:35:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5195822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/microwaveslayer/pseuds/microwaveslayer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The devil muses over innocence and purity juxtaposed to bloodshed and sin, the stains and soap on the lamb's fleece.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lamb to the Chessboard

Sebastian ran gloved fingers over the edge of the chessboard. Only here, in squares and lines, were the divisions so clear. Black against white, pawn against pawn. It was so simple, so childish.  
So human.  
He raised his head from the board, listening for a moment. The Young Lord was resting, breathing even. Sebastian closed his eyes, tilting his head. How soundly a little king could sleep!  
The devil opened his eyes and, though he sat at the side of the white pieces, moved the black pawn on his far left two spaces forward. White counters. Black pawn. White knight.  
He continued playing the self-moderated game of chess. He countered and blocked. The devil played the childish game of taking sides until only the white king, queen, and a bishop lasted. The black side kept a rook, king, queen, and knight.  
Knight captured by bishop. King moves. Bishop takes rook.  
Queen moves to defend the king.  
Queen takes queen.  
Check.  
Cat and mouse around a little. Pause, listen for the Earl’s even breathing. The boy sleeping soundly, the chase comes to a close.  
Checkmate.  
Sebastian gently tipped over the white king. He scowled. Surely the game wouldn’t be so simple.  
He paused, a finger resting on the black king. He tipped the piece over as well.  
No matter how many moves it took for checkmate, there would always be sacrifices. Slowly, he began putting the pieces away, one by one. He studied each piece before laying them to rest. Each one would be sacrificed before the game was done.  
A disturbance in the Earl’s breathing.  
Sebastian put away the chessboard and went to the Young Lord’s bedroom. He stood, simply watching the boy toss and turn. If he ignored the mark of their contract, the boy almost seemed innocent. Pure.  
He crossed the room and put a hand on the boy’s forehead. The devil whispered, “Sleep, my lord.”  
The Earl’s breathing evened out and he stopped tossing and turning. With a soft sigh, the boy fell back into a deep sleep.  
Sebastian stood back, watching him rest. Did he know just how tight the noose was around his neck? Probably not. The Earl would probably dart forward into the dark and the rope would snap his fragile little neck before he knew what had happened.  
The devil watched the Earl. He slept like a sweet little lamb.  
Sebastian leaned over, pulling the covers back up over the boy. No need to let him catch a chill. The last thing The Earl needed was to get sick.  
Sebastian turned to leave the room and let him rest. His hatred would be a lovely little appetiser for the main course.  
When the time came, there would be only one sacrificed piece left on the board. The devil had to wonder whether the Earl was a white knight or black knight. Perhaps, he wasn’t even a knight, the devil mused.  
Perhaps, after all his strife and struggle, the Earl of Phantomhive was nothing more than a lowly pawn in a larger game of chess.


End file.
